


In Your Arms

by HubbyDean



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Always Keep Fighting, Depression, Depression sucks and sometimes it just jumps on you, F/M, Mental Illness, even when things are ok, there doesn't have to be a reason for it to be considered valid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 17:21:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11257416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HubbyDean/pseuds/HubbyDean
Summary: Dean will always be by your side.





	In Your Arms

  
Dean could see it in you, from the very moment you had woken up that morning. Your eyes naturally held a shine to them, a spark, but today they were dull and tired.

He'd known you long enough to know when you were having a "down" day. Dean sighed as you shuffled into the kitchen, looking for breakfast. He knew this routine well.

You'd walk over to the fridge, have a look at the contents inside, only to shut the door and take a drink of water. You wouldn't say a word, barely offering a good morning as you got lost in your own head.

Sam glanced over your head at his brother, who solemnly nodded his head. Sam nodded back, trusting that Dean had your back. Still, the tall man made sure to squeeze your shoulder as he left the kitchen.

"We have a case," Dean said. He knew that you wouldn't want to talk yet, and that getting straight down to business would help you best. The job was the one thing you always knew how to handle. "It's an easy one. Haunting, in a town an hour away. We'll be done before nightfall."

Dean slipped his mug of coffee in front of you, going to pour himself another one. He knew you'd barely touch it, but was happy nonetheless when you took a sip. He watched you roll your sleeve up, so that you could comfortably rest your head on your fist.

"Typical salt and burn?" You asked, your voice dull. You squinted at the news report on the table, reading the details as best you could from the distance.

"Like we've done a hundred times before," Dean confirmed. "Listen, if you wanna stay -"

"No, I'll go," you shook your head. "I'll go get dressed. Thank you, for the coffee."

***

It took you twenty minutes longer than it normally did to get dressed. Once you had returned to the bedroom you shared with Dean, the urge to climb back into bed had almost taken you over.

Finally you pulled on a pair of leggings, and a plain top. You tied your hair back into a messy ponytail, and slipped on a pair of sneakers.

"You ready?" Dean asked, walking into the room. He shrugged off his robe, sliding his jeans up over his legs. As he tore off his shirt, you stood and walked over to him.

You wrapped your arms around his middle, breathing in his scent.

"I don't feel well," you mumbled against his skin. Dean turned in your embrace, wrapping his arms around you.

"I know," Dean said, resting his head against yours. "But you're gonna be ok."

You said nothing, and simply nodded. Though darkness clouded your mind, you knew he was right. Eventually, it would lighten. You just had to brave it through the storm.

***

The emotions that had been building finally exploded that night, after the case was done.

The Ghost had been easy, probably one of the easiest cases you'd had in years. But during the salting and burning, it had tried desperately to cling onto it's afterlife. Interrupting the process, the Ghost had thrown you into a tree.

You'd had worse injuries, but when your spirit was already broken, it seemed to hurt worse.

Dean was currently rubbing some bruise cream onto your affected shoulder, massaging the tight muscles there.

Tears spilled over your cheeks, half embarrassed that you were reacting so strongly to something so usual.

"I don't know why I'm crying," you mumbled, as Dean finished up.

"Maybe there's no reason tonight," he suggested, wrapping his arms around you. "Maybe you just need to cry."

You nodded, letting the tears fall as you tucked yourself into Dean's hold.

"You wanna talk about it?"

"There's nothing to talk about," you sighed. "That's the worst part. Nothing is causing me to feel this way, I just do."

"Depression doesn't always need a reason," Dean murmured, his lips warm against your forehead. "You told me that once."

"It just sucks," you sniffled. "At least if there was a reason, I could do something to fix it. But there's nothing, so I'm just stuck, waiting for it to pass."

"I'll be here," Dean promised. "You don't have to wait it out alone. You're never alone."

"I know," you smiled sadly at him. Leaning up, you placed a kiss against his lips. "Can we just go to bed?"

"Of course," Dean nodded. You shuffled off his lap, rubbing at your face tiredly. Some tears were still leaking out, but now you were mostly tired. It was exhausting.

You didn't question it when Dean left the room, but your heart swelled when you saw what he came back with.

Water, and 2 painkillers.

It was the little things.

Taking them, you lay down, and snuggled into his chest. What tomorrow would bring, you weren't sure, but you felt better knowing Dean was by your side.


End file.
